


How To Save A Life (And Finally Admit Your Feelings)

by CardboarianNights



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: 'dubious' is cause they never talked about their feelings, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Heavy Angst, How To Create An Immortal Boyfriend, Hunter!Jack, Immortal76, Incubus!Jesse, Jesse doesn't use his powers on Jack at all, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, No one really dies but there's a shit ton of feels in the first chapter, Romance, but both of them don't regret what happens, details inside, no slow burn, pining after a sweet elderly man who becomes a bara boyfriend, slice-of-life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-01-28 13:48:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12607988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CardboarianNights/pseuds/CardboarianNights
Summary: Retired hunter Jack Morrison has been putting up with the incubus, Jesse McCree, for ten years; Letting the incubus lay low at his home in the middle of nowhere when hunters get on his tail in exchange for helping the aging ex-hunter around the house until he leaves. It's not until Jesse arrives and finds the old, fraile hunter collapsed on his porch that the incubus realizes that he doesn't exactly want old man Morrison to depart this realm and exchanges his life to bring back Morrison from the brink.Jesse didn't expect being able to open his eyes the next day nor find both Morrison and their relationship changed forever.





	1. My Life For Yours (and Yours In Return???)

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that there is a part where it is implied that Jack has sex with an unconscious Jesse to bring him back to life (cause he's an incubus and that's how they survive) after Jesse gives up his life to restore Jack's vitality. 
> 
> Please be mindful of your mental health and do not read if even implied dubcon makes you uncomfortable.
> 
> Both of them will probably talk it out later but not in the immediate aftermath.
> 
> The fic was inspired by that dragon/incubus!McCree skin concept that got passed around where he looks similar to summoner!symmetra!

“Ya don’t have ta, ya know…”

McCree spoke as he gently carried old man Jack’s body in his arms. His serape wrapped around the elderly man to keep him somewhat warm as Jesse kept him close to his chest, purposely using his own energy to make himself a heatsink on this terribly frigid night.

An incubus never stays in one place for long. It’s for survival since people will figure out a pattern in the long strings of death over the course of time and call in the Hunter’s Association to investigate. Unlike other supernatural beings, though, incubi have almost no combat abilities to aid in their escape or defense when revealed. Hence, why all incubus move on once rumors of the supernatural start spreading more insistently than usual.

It never stopped the retired, old hunter, Jack Morrison, from offering the incubus, Jesse McCree, a place to stay for ten years though.

Jesse felt his heart sink at the clear state of neglect of the house he used to lay low at when hunters inevitably get on his tail. His now-golden eyes noted the large amount of dust building up in certain parts of the modestly-sized first floor area that clued him into the old hunter’s rapid declining health while he was gone for two years; The staircase to the second floor untouched when he walked by it after closing the front door behind him, a thin coat of dust evenly spread across all the steps and undisturbed by any obvious footprints, and the room leading to the first floor study had cobwebs building up in the corners of the door frame. 

Only the living room attached to the kitchen bore clear signs of life in this house that once was pristinely maintained by a grumpy, yet proud old man that didn’t give a fuck when he dragged a heavily wounded incubus into his home ten years ago. The fireplace was crackling with a warm fire though the sot was piled up considerably inside along with a large pile of ash laying on a cleaning sheet on the floor, folded laundry sitting on the coffee table and sorted into piles that should have been put away in the dresser upstairs, two thick quill blankets bundled on the couch with a pillow lying next to one of the armrests, a bucket that reeked of urine on the floor beside the couch…

Jesse could not believe that this was actually happening to old man Morrison; A hunter that was to-the-book on everything but had a huge heart under his disapproving scowl that guided his morality when it came down to it. A man who knew the evils in the light and the good that could exist in the darkness from his decades of hunting, leading him to spare Jesse and take him in time-after-time past their initial meeting; That even incubus, like Jesse, had a right to survive in this harsh world like any other human did so long as he never took pleasure in killing to do so. It was what made Jesse approach his house in the woods when he feared for his life, and old man Morrison just let him in so long as he helped out around the house in return.

 

Morrison shifted slightly in Jesse’s arms, the light fading from his form as he tried to get comfortable rather than curse out Jesse for carrying him around like a helpless maiden. “I think… I wouldn’t mind going like that…” He spoke quietly to Jesse through barely parted lips.

The incubus gritted his teeth in disgust as he turned away from the obvious decline before him of an old man having difficulty in his final days, and went to the staircase, up to the second floor master bedroom. He was livid with Morrison letting death drag him so easily away just because fate happened to want to kick Jesse especially hard in the nuts this time around when he came running for Morrison’s protection.

Dust flew up in tiny clouds around his feet as Jesse stomped his way up the steps, his body shifting, unable to keep his human disguise up under duress to reveal his charred, almost molten, demonic form. His fangs piercing through his lower lips as he cursed his shitty luck, taking his own self-loathing out on himself and the stairs the best he could without hurting the frail body seeking comfort and warmth in its final hours against him. He turned on his heels when he got to the top of the staircase, booking it to the master bedroom. One arm easily held Morrison against him as he open the door and pushed it open, revealing a perfectly untouched bedroom that Jesse had come to associate with the old hunter since he helped him a decade ago. Jesse felt anger roll in his stomach as he kicked the door shut behind him, muttering a ‘sorry’ under his breath out of reflex, and carried Morrison to his bed, pulling the sheets back before slipping the old man under the covers.

His hands moved carefully since they bore talons, pulling a pillow over with one and carefully lifting Morrison's head with the other to let him rest against the plush sibling to the flatter pillow downstairs. It made Jesse wonder when the last time the old hunter last lay in his bed and how long Morrison had been deteriorating since the last time he was here. Jesse tasted copper on his tongue and realized how hard he was biting into his lips before pulling out a handkerchief to press the cloth to it to stem the bleeding. His emotions were running rampant when he needed to be calm and try to help Morrison live through the night.

It was just a rough night for the old hunter, is all!

Old man Morrison was a tough sonuvabitch that has gladly told vampires to fuck off when they tried to gain entrance to his house and even slammed the door in their face for good measure too! Jesse was even there to witness the badass spectacle once with his own eyes! A man like that doesn’t just- There’s no way old Grim has the balls to try to drag him off into the eternal sleep! Guys like Morrison don’t die alone in their homes out in the middle of nowhere with no family by their bedside…!

Jesse turned on his heels and dashed out of the room to grab some cut logs from the first floor to toss into the clean fireplace upstairs. He needed to get some heat going that wasn’t from Jesse draining his own energy reserves to keep the old man warm now that he was in a very sufficiently comfortable bed. He made another run for the hallways linen closet to pull out two folded quilts and rush back to the bed to lay them over Morrison, his gold eyes darting frantically to the old man that was trying to watch Jesse through heavily lidded eyes. Old coot was fighting for his life and Jesse’s feet weren’t moving as fast as they should be to actually help him in his time of need.

He went back downstairs and grabbed a burning log from the fire, not caring that it was burning his hands as he rushed up the stairs, barely containing his howls of pain before depositing it onto the logs. Jesse clamped down hard on his lips, crimson spilling from the earlier puncture wounds he made worse, down his chin as he muffled his own horrific screams, collapsing on his knees to the floor while his hands violently throbbed from having the surface burned off. Tears streaking down his cheeks as he continued to gasp and wheeze through his nose, slamming his forehead into the wooden floor to try to distract himself from how excruciating the pain was in his hands without moving them as he rested the back of them on the cool surface. It was a wound that would be easily healed later! He just needed to keep his mouth clamped shut so Morrison wouldn’t be bothered!

Morrison was worth the pain of second degree burns on his palms for how long Jesse has taken advantage of his kindness when he deserved to be kicked out for being such a huge pain in the ass.

Morrison deserved so much more than Jesse being the one to comfort him as he passed on and, terrifyingly enough, Jesse might not be able to even come close to repaying his debt if the old man passes tonight.

...That was something Jesse could not afford to let happen.

“Jesse…”

No amount of pain or white noise in Jesse’s head could make him miss those weak and heavy words coming from Morrison’s mouth. It was like glass shattering in an empty room from how clear it came through, overriding Jesse’s need to get relief for his burns as Jesse stumbled over his own feet to get up and race over to Morrison’s bed side.

Morrison’s eyes were closed but the blankets still lifted with each breath the old, silver-haired man took. It brought some relief to Jesse’s guilt but not enough as he felt even more pain tear at the inside of his chest as well.

“Jesse… Stop… Being stupid…”

Tears flowed unrestrained down the incubus’ cheeks as Morrison called him out on his stupidity when he needed to save his strength to keep himself alive. An ugly sob was lodged in Jesse’s throat, reducing to a miserable whine as he brought up his destroyed palms to grip one of the soft, quilt blanket laying over Morrison to keep him warm. His voice cracked and he was unable to pry his mouth open from the clotted blood clinging to his teeth in his wounded lips without much more pain being added to his miserable state.

Deep despair prompted him to pop his maw out from the wounds and let out a loud, wheezy cry from the depths of his heart for the old man. All of his regrets piled even heavier on his shoulders as he coughed and hiccuped in a fit he didn’t think himself capable of.

“Don’t die. ...Please!” Jesse choked quietly on his plea to Morrison, as if saying ‘please’ would unlock the miracles he would need to save the old, grouchy man that didn’t deserve this kind of death; Didn’t deserve this kind of unfitting decline into frailty before being whisked away by old Grim when he should be lodging a bolt right between the reaper’s eye sockets; Dragged kicking and screaming with his life burning as brilliantly as Jesse always saw it. “...Don’t leave me!” 

Old man Morrison just let out a breathy chuckle at that. Pitying the incubus who was now burying his face into his mother’s quilts and pleading for him to stay when it was clearly his time to move on. Jesse could feel his lifeforce fading away slowly with his own power but it was just way too cruel for him to even comprehend. That’s not how he should go! Jesse didn’t WANT him to go like that!

“Take it... then…” Morrison breathed, his last word slurring into a sigh as the end drew ever closer, no matter that the fire place was now pouring out heat by the truck-loads, and Jesse showing more vulnerability than he ever had prior to collapsing on the old hunter's porch ten years ago. No amount of begging or effort on Jesse’s part was going to be enough to keep death from claiming the weak flame of Jack Morrison’s life.

Jesse gripped the covers in his talons as he pushed himself up onto his feet, still choking on his pain while he stared down at the wilting human he has admired for a decade. Inevitability written into Morrison’s frail skin and sunken eyes. A man ready to stop suffering and be embraced by the sweet release of death like all humans eventually do.

A fact that Jesse was not going to allow come about so easily. Not when he had a way to repay all of his debts at one time in this moment of desperation.

An incubus takes the lifeforce of its victim with sexual gratification in return, but the reverse can be true as well… 

Sex wouldn’t even be a requirement in this case at all.

Jesse took a deep breath through his nose and went around the bed. He murmured his genuine apologies for intruding into Morrison’s bed as he slipped in under the sheets and draped one arm over the dying man’s chest to pull himself in close to embrace Morrison from the side for but a moment. Jesse felt a small smile lift the corner of his own lips at how nice it felt to hold him, wishing he had time to truly savor the contact between them before getting up and carefully straddling his legs over Morrison’s hips, making sure to not put any weight on his frail body at all as he leaned forward on his forearms on either side of the old hunter’s head. Not wanting to risk Morrison’s life by even thinking of cutting it close to say his own final words, Jesse leaned down and pressed his lips to Morrison’s cool ones. He said an apology in his mind to the old hunter about how gross it must have felt to get a bloody kiss to his lips before gently pushing the old hunter's mouth open with his own to breath life back into Morrison.

He closed his eyes and just let his own vitality slip out from under him by pushing it slowly into the fading embers of the old man’s life, letting it be the tinder to build them back up into a flame worthy of the hunter named ‘Jack Morrison’. Force all that Jesse was as a living being to make those embers glow and ignite red hot while death tried to snuff it out in tandem. Let every life Jesse snuffed out be repaid by saving this one selfless person’s life at the cost of his own soul.

Jesse breathed and breathed and BREATHED until he felt Jack Morrison’s life latch onto his own and seize it brilliantly; Like a fish so desperate to cling to life that it snapped the rod that tried vainly to pull it from the depths, old Grim cursing as Jesse snagged the damned line with his own two hands to pull the thread of fate and the rod into the ocean so Jack Morrison could swim away to live again; Grim’s boney hands seizing themselves around Jesse’s neck as he felt himself pull away from the land of the living, growing weaker and weaker as Jack Morrison grew healthier before his very eyes under him.

His frail body slowly reverting into a handsome, middle-aged man as the human continued to pull and devour Jesse’s life. It was so enchanting to see a frail man fill back out under him, that he was the one putting the spark back into a human’s life rather than snuffing it out to survive. Any pain or regrets he had would be gone with him as he felt himself slipping into the void, his body growing heavier as he gingerly laid down against a muscular chest. Darkness bleeding into the corners of his vision as Jesse struggled to watch Morrison for as long as he could.

Jesse felt himself smile weakly against Morrison’s lips. The old man was always one helluva looker but… he certainly wouldn’t have mind giving Morrison a freebie without taking his soul if they had met when he was younger. It was a skeevy final thought but at least he went out with no regrets after reviving his own Snow White…

\--

Old Grim must have been pissed to have reached into a barrel for an old, handsome hunter and pulled out a random incubus instead because Jesse McCree certainly didn’t stay in the void for long. 

“H-Hey…! You with m-me, McCree?!” A gravely, masculine voice as beautiful as an angel’s to his ears, stuttered weakly while Jesse felt the haze of death lift slowly off his form. Death would not be kind enough to send him to a beautiful utopia of perfect men for what he had done throughout his whole life but Jesse wasn’t exactly sure what to think as his eyes opened to see an angelic glow envelope the prettiest man he had ever laid eyes on.

Hair as white as the freshly fallen snow, smooth pale skin, ruby red eyes, and a muscular form that just begged to be snuggled up against on the coldest winter nights. The warm glow from the fireplace making him seem softer and his pained expression that much more endearing as the black haze in the corners of his vision slowly lifted to give him a clearer picture of the man leaning over him so close. The dark circles around his eyes bringing out the pretty reds of his irises and not a by-product of lack of sleep either. Jesse wanted to reach up his hand to touch his face, see if he was just an illusion before a pale hand gently grasped his wrist with the utmost care; Red eyes looking sadly off to the side where Jesse’s held wrist was just out of his vision as he just studied the angel worrying over him.

Jesse’s whole body felt like a sack of rocks pinned under a landslide as he became more aware of himself and all the pain that throbbed agonizingly throughout his every nerve from head to toe. He winced as he felt his held wrist gently get placed back down on his side, the fabric of the blanket feeling like knives against his palm before it was carefully turned so the back of his hand rested against it instead.

“Shit…! Sorry ‘bout that, McCree.” The angel apologized quickly, clearly bothered that he inflicted pain on Jesse when it wasn’t necessary, in Jesse’s opinion. 

He brought it on himself for the sake of another, after all. A little pain was worth keeping that grouchy old man alive. Jesse felt himself smile a bit at that as he felt his eyelids grow heavier from exhaustion. His vision blurred as he heard a string of growled curses and felt something move on him before his eyes completely closed. He just wanted to rest a little bit but the movement kept pulling at his consciousness, illusions of pleasure baiting him curiously back with their clingy tendrils.

“Come on, M-McCree…! Come back to me…! Nnngh…!” The angel whimpered, Jesse’s attention honing in on it like a moth to a flame as he tried to pry his own eyes open once more. The little muffled moans and pants making Jesse groan in return as he felt such wonderful heat fill him like the finest meals old man Morrison would feed him. 

It felt like that extra bit of effort Morrison put into his beef roast he prepared when they were both stuck inside of his house on rainy days with nothing really to do. The laundry put on hold to wash and dry later when the sun came out, every surface of the house wiped down for dust twice already, and an old man with pretty blues sitting next to him on the couch with glasses balanced on the bridge of his nose as he read a book beside him, humoring Jesse with conversation that he was sorely going to miss.

Funny. Maybe he kind of regrets not telling Morrison about his awkward feelings for him. Would the old geezer have smiled or cried for him after that? 

The heat spread throughout Jesse and he felt his consciousness return to him, his ability to shift and move returning to him slowly. His eyes soon strong enough to fully open and see the look of relief on the angel's face as he panted hard with a look of guilt soon overtaking his expression. Jesse felt himself moan as a firm heat pulled out of him but he wasn't too concerned when said-pretty man laid down next to him and rolled Jesse over so they were chest to chest under the warm blankets.

“... Sorry.” The angel whispered to Jesse, his voice sounding heavy with guilt. It was enough to make Jesse’s heart ache miserably at how much he wanted to console him. 

Exhaustion won out in the end but it wasn’t like being sucked into the void similar to the other few times since he became conscious again. He felt like things would be okay this time as he let the darkness was over him now that he laid close to his guardian angel.


	2. Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning brings about a new start for a rejuvenated ex-hunter and an incubus. It just might not be the new start either of them wants.

Jesse woke up feeling less like a grounded down pebble the next time he opened his eyes but still felt pretty shit as the sunlight beamed into the room through the window. It wasn’t something he expected to happen as he rolled onto his back and stared up blankly at the wooden ceiling. His palms hurting significantly less when he accidentally shifted his fingers, lifting his hands up to see them both heavily wrapped up in bandages with his fingers individually covered in neat wraps as well before letting them drop back down by his sides on the bed.

He could hear a fire crackling not too far away and felt the warmth that it emitted to keep the room comfortable. That, plus his treated wounds, established that he wasn’t dreaming of the reckless shit he pulled last night; That he did indeed find old man Morrison collapsed on his porch and pulled every trick in the book to try to save his life before opting to exchange his own to bring him back from old Grim’s grasp. Jesse groaned and pulled the quilts over his head, curling up in a ball of humiliation as he realized his self-sacrifice got turned on its head. 

Old man Morrison was now ‘hot stud Morrison’ (if his memory served him right) but that was just going to make shit that much more awkward. Morrison was going to be as mad as bull seeing red once he realized Jesse was awake with that sixth sense of his that always seemed to know where he was, especially if he was in the wrong and heading back to the house.

That old dog could smell trouble from ten miles away, Jesse was sure of that.

Guilt racked through Jesse and made him break into a cold sweat at the thought of how much Morrison probably hated him now. Jesse denied him his sacred rite to pass on after he was forced to put up with the humiliation of wasting away to the point where he had to relieve himself in a bucket. He could completely understand the old hunter wanting to personally strangle the life out of Jesse himself instead of letting him pass on. Jesse probably would do the same any sonova bitch that wanted to prolong his stay in this shitty world if incubus aged similarly as humans did but he kind of wanted to hold onto his life now, as selfish as it was after doing that to Morrison…

He didn’t get long to dwell on it, as he correctly predicted, when the door creaked open, letting out a prolonged squeak that had Morrison sighing in annoyance right before entering the room. Jesse tensed up in terror under the sheets, knowing they wouldn't protect him from Morrison’s inevitable wrath as he heard the padding of feet over the floorboards to the side of the bed Jesse was petrified under. His heart pounded a million miles an hour as he tried to steady his breath, desperately trying to fake sleeping so on the off-chance Morrison might disregard the trembling going on under the sheets from how scared Jesse was of talking to him right now.

Jesse’s body tensed when the footsteps came to a halt next to him and flinched hard when he felt something touch his shoulder. The incubus snapped his eyes shut tightly and tucked his knees under his chin to protect his chest in response but the hand stayed steady as he heard a heavy sigh come from Morrison’s lips.

“It’s time to get up, McCree.” Morrison spoke gently down to Jesse, the bed dipping as the ex-hunter sat down next to him.

Jesse managed to whimper out pathetically in response, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as fear turned mercilessly to guilt when Morrison seemed to worry over him rather than run a dagger through him like he deserved. The hand on Jesse's shoulder gave him a gentle, reassuring squeeze but Jesse didn’t want to try pushing his luck by making any sudden moves.

“Look…” Morrison started with a heavy sigh. “We can talk about what happened later, okay? Get up, changed around, and come down for some lunch.” He requested in an understanding manner. 

Jesse sniffled hard as he felt guilt tear at him even moreso. “... I don’t deserve y-your… Your hospitality anymore.” 

The hand on his shoulder lifted after giving it a light pat. “Frankly, you don’t.” Morrison grumbled, making Jesse conflicted and confused on the meaning of the friendly pat before he continued. “But, seriously, don’t ask questions and just do what I ask until, well… until I can figure out what to even say about all of this. Humor me, alright?” He asked with an air of hesitation to it, leaving Jesse in awe at the man’s logic.

Jesse felt a question about to leave his lips before he swallowed them back down his throat. His curiosity could hold off for once in his life, especially if Morrison was uncertain in how he wanted to handle Jesse’s blatant breach of trust by forcing him to continue to live when he asked Jesse to take his own soul from him as his last request. Tears rolled down and over his nose as he sniffled hard, not wanting to seem as torn up over this whole thing as he was, especially not with the old hunter hearing it all. He was grateful that Morrison said nothing else as he turned and walked back out of the room, closing the door with a gentle click behind him so that Jesse could be alone in his grief. 

He would eventually comply with old man Morrison’s request but for now, he had a lot to get off his chest and process. 

Death came for both of them last night and it was something that tore deeply at him, regardless that he was fine with the idea of dying for another person. Jesse had always lived on the brink as an incubus, trying to never take someone’s soul unless he absolutely had to and always lived in fear that he might be unable to survive if he didn’t plan well in advance - Just the thought of getting stuck out in the wilderness with no one around being enough to send him into a panic attack if the prospect even tangible enough. The fact that he just would just willingly disregard everything he ever learned and feared was enough to make him drag a pillow into his arms and bury his face into it to muffle his sobs. Grateful that he didn’t die and that Morrison survived as well, even though it was to be seen how he really felt about the whole thing…

Getting dressed around after he felt he had been laying around and crying for too long was a lot easier since Morrison brought his travel bag up earlier while he slept. Jesse felt himself smile a bit at that but didn’t put much stock into assuming Morrison was feeling generous about the whole ‘I brought you back from the brink of death and gave you fifty extra years of life’-thing. It was better to be cautiously guarded about how he was going to interact with Morrison from here on out than break their relationship more than it always was.

With a fresh pair of clothes on, Jesse stuffed last night's into his sack after folding them up to save on space before throw his pack over his shoulder. He took one last look around the room, his eyes landing on the unmade bed and felt himself heave out a sigh, setting his bag back down to go make it presentable. 

Taking the pillow he sufficiently wet with his tears earlier to set it at the head of the bed before ripping off the four layers of blankets to get at the thin sheet bunched up at the foot to spread it back over the mattress. He folded up the two extra quilts and set them on a nearby chair Morrison oddly had in his room to put away later as he went back to pick up the comforter off the floor to lay back over the bed. Once he felt satisfied with how the bed looked, Jesse slipped his pack back over his shoulders and gathered the folded quilts to carry out of the room, shutting the door behind him once in the hall.

\--

Jesse felt like he stepped down the stairs and into a flashback from the past from how dramatic the first floor had changed since last night. 

He could see fresh laundry hung out on the laundry poles outside from one of the first floor windows as he descended down the steps, noticing some of his own clothing swaying heavily back and forth in the wind that suggested they were recently washed. The wooden steps and landing were completely spotless with no signs of dust build up, unlike the previous night where Jesse worried idly of slipping on the steps due to how much was caked on it. The most noticeable thing missing when he stepped onto said-first floor landing was the absence of Morrison’s couch and the mess that cluttered the coffee table last night.

“Where did the couch go?” 

“Burning in the backyard with the leaves.” ‘Old man’ Morrison answered with a more youthful-sounding voice that caught Jesse by surprise for a moment until he remembered that he did hear it last night.

His voice drew McCree’s eyes to the kitchen area where a significantly buffer, blue sweater-wearing ex-hunter was dragging a mop back and forth over the wooden floor there. The table and chairs that normally graced that area outside or possibly cramped up in the study as Morrison focused on cleaning. 

McCree felt his face heat up a bit as he eyed Morrison from head to toe, the fifty-odd year old hunter focused on the task more so than Jesse at the moment. Jesse always imagined Morrison to be a stud when he was younger but, holy hell, reality was really something else as the incubus looked at Morrison’s fuller set of snow-white hair, garnering a slight widow’s peak but definitely not a negative in Jesse’s book, surprisingly enough. His body filled out with amazing muscle definition under his clothes that really painted a picture of how Morrison was able to live up to his legend long before he retired to quietly fade away in the forest. Jesse found himself staring at Morrison’s arms and shoulders as they flexed under the fabric, the sight going straight down to his dick before he then had to look elsewhere as to not embarrass himself further with a noticeable boner.

He was still in a lot of deep shit with the old hunter and that reminder made him pursed his lips together in shame. Tearing his house apart to clean was probably how Morrison was coping with his newfound vitality, and Jesse was using it as an opportunity to ogle the old hunter. 

What the the fuck was wrong with him?!

Jesse let his head hang downwards in shame at that before letting out a heavy sigh, bringing a hand up to rub nervously at the back of his neck, keeping his eyes glued to the drying floor. “Look, ‘bout last night…”

“I’m not ready to talk about it.” Morrison spoke quietly, moving over to the bucket to dip the dried mop in. 

Jesse frowned at that answer as he slowly looked up and saw Morrison move so easily to the next quadrant of the kitchen he wanted to mop without so much of a hint of lower back and knee pain. “I… I get that but I don’t think I’ll be brave enough to… Discuss it later, ya know?” He tried explaining, not trying to sound pushy but also let Morrison know what he was honestly feeling at the moment. The wet sliding of the mop over the old wooden floorboards the only sound in the home as Morrison hopefully pondered on it. 

The mop came to a halt as Morrison stood back up to his full height and turned around to face Jesse with a heavy sigh, bringing up his free hand to card through his short, white hair while the other one set the mop upright to rest under his palm. “What do you want me to say, McCree?” He started off as he let the hand that was in his hair to drop to his side. “That I should be grateful for that stunt you pulled?”

Jesse winced slightly at the accusation as his eyes fell back to the floor in shame, guilt filling every inch of him while he let Morrison say his piece.

“I asked for you to take my damn soul, not damn me to- whatever it is you did to my body!” Morrison spoke in exasperation. “What in sam’s hell got into you to take my last request and try to turn it on its head in such a fucked up fashion, McCree?! I can’t fucking even begin with where I should start with that!” He snarled as he shoved the mop handle against the counter to prop it up and stepped forward to close the distance between them. 

Jesse felt a hand grasp his chin and yank his head upwards, his brown eyes meeting the pretty rubies of Jack’s. The black discoloration around his eyes making them pop more like when a lady wears makeup but Jesse knew, deep down, that it was a side-effect along with Morrison’s pale white skin. Morrison’s eyes narrowed at him, the disappointment in them driving the knife of guilt deeper into Jesse’s heart more so than flat out anger.

“You getting a good look at what you did to me, Jesse McCree?”

“Yes, Sir.” Jesse spoke with utmost respect to Morrison as he felt his heart pounding in his throat, finding it hard to breath.

“You proud of what you’ve done to an old hunter after a solid decade of trust? Do I look like I’m enjoying this curse you tried to con off to me in the form of a gift?” 

Jesse felt tears threaten to fall in the corners of his eyes as Morrison tightened his grip on Jesse’s chin, looking off to the side to keep himself from falling apart at the seams in guilt.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, McCree!”

Yep, that was definitely tears now actively streaming down his cheeks as he reluctantly brought his eyes back to look Morrison, unable to hide his guilt from the hunter he has come to treasure greatly. 

“...I didn’t want to lose you.” Jesse weakly confessed, desperately wanting to tell the hunter his fucked up feelings for him but not even close to getting the words out of his throat as they threaten to suffocate him. 

Morrison’s eyes glared more critically at him but Jesse wasn’t going to let him assume he had a nefarious reason for keeping him alive, not while he could help it. 

“Why didn’t ya let me die fer ya, Morrison...?” He sniffled, trying to restrain his ugly sobs and not collapse on his feet like he wanted to.

Morrison released Jesse’s chin with a scowl on his face, looking away for a moment as he took a step back. “I was ready to die, McCree. It’s part of life for a human, and you should know better than to fuck with it like you did.” He reminded Jesse, never once backing off him about that last fact. Probably determined to burn it into the fabric of Jesse’s very being. “I’m not going to forgive you but I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of death or even let you leave my sight in case you still can’t get it through your damn skull.” Morrison declared as he stepped forward and glared McCree down, making sure he was aware of just how serious he was. “Your life is mine to do as I please until this curse naturally resolves itself or we find someone who will undo it. Understand?”

Jesse swallowed hard at that and hesitantly nodded his head but was quickly snapped at.

“I want to HEAR you say it, Incubus!”

The referral to his race and not his name was enough to snap any hesitation Jesse had in his mind, and he dropped down onto one knee before Morrison. Power flowing to his voice and shifting his human-passing form to that of his molten incubus one, Morrison sucking in a breath for moment as he probably had a good idea what was happening. Jesse wasn’t going to back out of this if Morrison was as serious as he was about his demand. “Within my ties to the ethereal, both corporeal and other, may my servitude be bound to the human, Jack Mor-”

A hand seized him by the horn and broke Jesse’s concentration, Morrison absolutely livid as he slammed Jesse up against a wall by the lapels of his shirt. “What are you DOING, You Absolute Asshole!!”

Jesse panicked as he felt his heart slam hard in his rib cage from how pissed Morrison was. “I- !”

“I didn’t ASK for you to form a contract! All I wanted was your word!” Morrison emphasized, making Jesse’s own anger flare up as he brought his claws up to seize the wrists pinning him painfully to the wall.

“My word ain’t word shit, Morrison, an’ ya know that as good as anyone! I reckon’ if yer faith in me is completely shot then I give ya my word in a way that CAN’T ever be a lie!” He snarled, gripping Morrison’s wrists even tighter to make him understand how serious he was about all of this. 

Morrison didn’t back down from the challenge as he easily lifted Jesse off the ground, his red eyes as sharp as a sword compared to the blue steel Jesse was used to seeing narrowed at him when he deserved a good lecture in the past. The aura of danger Morrison carried as a weapon in it’s own right was sending a shameless, goddamn shock wave to Jesse’s dick at the worst moment, especially with the impressive show of strength Morrison now had to work with to keep him in line. Jesse cursed his luck and prayed that Morrison wouldn’t notice his hard-on pressing firmly against the front of his trousers.

Thankfully, Morrison was too blinded by anger to notice or at least spared him further humiliation by not bringing it up. “You dimwitted motherfucker! Now you can’t take it back!”

“And I wouldn’t want to either, Morrison! Get it through YOUR head!” He shot back with a growl.

That seemed to throw Morrison off enough that Jesse got a knee between them and shoved the hunter off him with force. Jesse’s feet touched the ground once more as he stood up to his full height and refused to let Morrison’s icy glare make him heel. 

Not on this issue.

Morrison’s body tensed up for a fight as he balled his fists by his side - The man a beautiful exemplar of pain and righteous fury that Jesse just couldn’t bring himself to hate or leave alone for too long. If Jack wanted to beat Jesse to a pulp then, fine, he’ll take his beating but he won’t ever take his words back. If Jesse was willing to go all-in for him to die last night then he might as well continue to commit, less he want to hold a dying Morrison in his arms a second time somewhere down the line.

That was a fate he would not tolerate.

Not ever again.

Just when Jesse thought Morrison would throw a punch, the hunter suddenly took a sharp breath in through his nose and let it out slowly through his mouth. His body relaxed all at once as he scowled at Jesse before turning to walk back over to the mop handle he had left leaning by the counter. 

“Go take a walk, McCree. I don’t want to see your face for the next hour.” He demanded, and Jesse was compelled both by wanting to get some air after the conflict and the contract he made with the ex-hunter that effectively made him his master. Interrupted or not.

“Fine. S’not like I’ll go very far anyways.” Jesse grumbled as his form shifted back to his human-passing one, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets, and turning to walk out of the kitchen to the front door. 

Morrison merely huffed in response when Jesse shut the door behind him to go outside.

So long as he still had the willpower to get angry with Jesse then it was worth it all at the end of the day, the old coot still felt the need to live to keep Jesse in line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the feedback on the last chapter, guys! I hope you're enjoying it as much as I am!
> 
> Please leave a review, if you can! Reviews are worth 100 kudos to me!


	3. We both carry our own sins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning:
> 
> Jack and Jesse DO talk about the dub-con situation that happened in the first chapter and Jack honestly doesn't think it was 'dubious' at all.
> 
> This is NOT a rape-apologetic fic. We KNOW Jack is not a rapist but he feels extremely guilty and doesn't know that Jesse probably would have consented if he could have in that moment.
> 
> If this still makes you uncomfortable, please skip the rest of the chapter starting from the line: 'Morrison paused at that for a moment before turning fully away from the fire to face Jesse...'.

When Jesse said told Jack that he would ‘be around’ after the hunter kicked him out of the house, he didn't expect himself to just stand near the large blaze out in the backyard. His eyes watching that old couch burn violently along with a pile of other things that Jesse could barely make out in the flames. Stepping around the inferno, Jesse carefully pulled out his cigar case from his back pocket, minding his wrapped up burned hands. He lit one up, once he was sure he wouldn’t set the bandages on fire, to the memories that were going up with it.

He drew a slow drag from the cigar after lighting it, tucking his lighter and case back into his pockets as he lightly chomped on the end of the cigar. His head filled with nostalgic days and nights where he just bummed out on that couch, using it to sleep on until old man Morrison inevitably nudged him awake, usually with something worth getting up for.

In the early years of their relationship, it would be the smell of dinner in the kitchen or the old hunter insisting he sit up so he could rewrap his wounds with fresh bandages - You know, the usual stuff people only get up for. He was such a suspicious asshole back then. Frequently snapped at Morrison and got it dished back at him creatively by the sharp-tongued hunter in return, often leaving Jesse gaping at the sailor mouth the veteran hunter had on him.

Who would have thought the celebrated master hunter loved to use the word ‘ass’ in combination with words that don't usually mix well? 

Jesse smirked and let out a little laugh at that, bringing his carefully wrapped fingers up to grip the cigar and let his hand drop away with it down to his side, idly flicking off the accumulated ashe at the end with his thumb. He slowly let the drag out through his lips, smoke drifting upwards to intertwine with the black clouds from the fire. 

While he had plenty of laughs from their earlier years, it was the later years that had Jesse feeling his heart crumble along with the burning couch’s frame. 

The times when Morrison would surprise him while he laid out on the couch, casually swiping Jesse’s feet off or flat out sit on them to show Jesse who was the owner of the damn thing. It was moments like that, mixed with other, more frequent, mundane ones where Jesse would watch Morrison fold the laundry for a minute before reaching forward to start folding the garments with him, placing them on the coffee table in piles. The simple reward of hearing Morrison’s voice murmuring a quiet, but sincere ‘thank you’ in response… The way warmth crept up into Jesse’s cheeks and he felt an inkling of adoration in his heart in moments like that where Morrison would voice his appreciation and Jesse’s desire to flee the uncomfortable feelings he experienced would have him excusing himself for a walk. 

He would deny ten ways to Sunday that he was pining for an old hunter, especially one that was going to die if Jesse so much as sneezed at him wrong; a joke, he would tell himself, easier to just ignore them then confront them head on.

Besides, he was an incubus. He could definitely score someone hotter and with significantly more years to live then the like of Morrison...

His brown eyes were filled with sorrow at that thought as he brought his cigar back up and took a long, slow drag to his idiotic self. Jesse’s heart was burning along with the couch as he tried to not feel too depressed about watching the whole thing turn to ash.

The couch was nothing compared to the agony of almost losing Morrison…

Jesse's thoughts drifted to how… oddly comfortable old man Morrison seemed to be when he carried him in his arms. The way his usually stern face relaxed as he rested his head against Jesse’s chest. The way Jesse liked holding the older man in his arms, in hindsight. Hell, snuggling up to him in bed before he brought back Morrison from Death’s door was such a comfortable experience that he found himself aching to get that kind of contact again, even if Morrison would never have consented if he wasn't about to die...

Also, the way he just offered up his soul when he knew how Jesse had to go about to do such a thing…

Jesse snapped his eyes shut and shoved the idea of reciprocating feelings with the hunter away. Morrison wasn't an idiot. Sure, he was delirious with one foot in the grave and might have wanted to give one last piece of charity to Jesse but Jack wasn't thinking straight.

Did Jack Morrison really want to have one last romp on Earth with Jesse or was there something more to it?

His mind went back to those many days they both spent on the couch together. The way Jesse thought Morrison looked pretty cute, for an old guy, with a pair of readers on the bridge of his nose as they sat quietly next to each other. The way Morrison’s brow would crinkle when he laughed at one of Jesse’s bad jokes or stories. 

How blue of the man’s eyes always seemed to follow him even in Jesse’s dreams…

Could the old man have possibly had a weak spot for Jesse all these years when the idea seemed plain ludicrous? A vagabond incubus was not something anyone should love so carelessly, much less someone who should know better, like Jack Morrison. The guy was one of the best hunters in the region and knew how bad an incubus could be if it hung around too long in one place.

Also, the guy could manage to get anyone he wanted from how much of a handsome silver fox he was. Assuming that he dropped the ‘grouchy, old man’ act he seemed to stubbornly cling to. He wasn’t even half bad a looker at ninety years old either, but, Jesse hasn’t exactly paid attention to the human elderly to get a real idea of where Morrison feel on the ‘hot old guy’ spectrum. Only Morrison seemed to catch Jesse’s eye in that regard, embarrassingly enough.

Was this Stockholm Syndrome he was experiencing all these years or something?

He just- ! Incubi and succubi don’t go after the elderly! Clearly Jesse fell on his his head and lost too much blood over the years to fuck up his preferences!

Jesse grumbled bitterly at that in frustration as he kicked a fallen branch into the flame, sparing his pricy cigar from being chomped in half from razor sharp teeth as his skin grew molten. Turmoil bubbling under the surface as Jesse wished to personally punch out his stupid feelings and toss them directly into the inferno as well. Yanking the cigar out of his lips Jesse took out the cigar cutter from his case and snipped off the burning half, stashing the half used cigar back into the case with the clipper before shoving it back into his back pocket with a growl. He was about to boot the burning portion of the cigar into the fire before another pair of shoes beat him to it, making him whip his head to the side to see Morrison standing next to him.  
“How ‘bout you NOT burn my lawn, McCree? Just a suggestion.” The older hunter grumbled quietly as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his pants, turning his blue eyes to the large fire before them. There was no real bite to that but Jesse couldn't help but bristle from the guilt he felt on reflex.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” Jesse apologized sincerely as he felt his eyes travel to his boots. 

Things were oddly quiet between them as the fire continued to pop and crack loudly as they both watched the controlled blaze. The distance between them feeling more real by the moment as Jesse shifted on his feet, too guilty to change the subject or even look at Morrison.

“... Why are you apologizing?” Morrison asked quietly, seeming a bit uncomfortable as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Huh? Ah…” Jesse trailed off, not really having a good excuse or feeling very creative to come up with one from how shitty he felt.  
Now the silence between them was just plain awkward.

How should he even begin telling Morrison everything now that their relationship was burnt to ashes? The guy probably hated having him around but knew better than to chase Jesse off if he figured out a way to reverse this whole shit show Jesse forced him into. It just cut into Jesse deeper, especially when he now knew how much he loves Morrison. 

“If this is about the couch, I wanted it gone.” Morrison spoke, breaking Jesse out of his head with that seemingly out-of-left-field remark as the incubus looked back at the ex-hunter in confusion. The man’s red eyes focused intensely on the fire as he narrowed them in disgust at the burning furniture. 

Jesse couldn't imagine the kind of resentment Morrison held against his own body in his decline. All he could do was quietly stand beside him and let the ex-hunter lash out at his helplessness in a way that made him feel better. Any words from his mouth would likely be pity-filled and Jesse rather not anger a bull that was literally seeing red.

He did wish he could put an arm on his shoulder or something to that effect rather than just awkwardly staring at the fire with him. Jesse would certainly not object to physical affection were he in a similar state as Morrison…

“Feels good though; the fire.” Morrison murmured as he kicked a branch into the fire, Jesse watching as well as it caught fire easily and turned from a dark brown to red to match the rest of the burning pieces. 

Jesse looked at his bandaged hands for a moment before he lifted his head to look at the ex-hunter. “Speakin’ of ‘fire’, thanks fer takin’ care of my hands, Morrison.” He mumbled genuinely, not quite sure why he felt so sheepish saying so.

Morrison paused at that for a moment before turning fully away from the fire to face Jesse, his expression rather somber as he hesitantly brought his eyes up to look at Jesse. Jesse felt his heart squeeze painfully in his chest at Morrison's reaction, not wanting the ex-hunter to feel any bit of guilt towards Jesse’s attempts to help him before he… Did ‘that’.

Morrison held up a hand to stop Jesse from speaking before heavily sighing in resignation. “Look. I…” He paused for a moment, pursing his lips firmly together in frustration before throwing his hands to his side. “I fucked up just as badly as you did last night, McCree.” Morrison confessed as he brought a hand up and carded a hand through his hair to try to ground himself. The man clearly as guilt-ridden as Jesse was. “I -! There's no other way to put this, but, I raped you last night to make sure you didn't-!” Tears rolled down from the corners of the man’s face as he went through a multitude of expressions from frustration, to anger, and finally, despair. The emotional turmoil Morrison had been hiding was now in plain sight for someone like Jesse, an incubus that admired him greatly, had never seen have such a very human outburst from him before.

It was unreal being the one Morrison was tearing himself up over, like he had committed an atrocity worthy of his tears. Jesse wasn't- He couldn't fathom why Morrison felt that intercourse with him was such a thing for him to be upset about. Sex was how he survived. It was like eating for him and, yet, Morrison made it seem like he violated something sacred by trying to save his life, as unworthy of one as it was, in Jesse’s point of view.

Compelled by the weak heart he had for this human, Jesse stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Morrison, minding his injured hands as he awkward tried to hold the ex-hunter. Morrison tensed visibly at the gesture and Jesse braced to be shoved away in disgust. Jesse’s eyes clenched shut as his heart prepared for Morrison’s rejection and a strike to the face for his unwanted affection.

Preparation for retaliation that never came.

Instead, Jesse felt something firm press against his shoulder and heard the sounds of Morrison's break down get muffled by the sweater he was wearing. No violent outbursts, or accusations of pity being spat back in his face like he feared. It was just Morrison letting out all the weight on his shoulders and… Well… Accepting Jesse's offer of comfort as they both realized how badly they fucked up last night.

‘Fucked up’...

That was such a strange thing to attribute to Morrison after a decade of basically being right about everything and acting as something like a moral compass for Jesse to look to. It wasn't like Morrison was all-knowing or incapable of deceiving Jesse but, never has he intentionally steered him the wrong way with his advice when Jesse confided in him. Him being a ‘grouchy old man’ certainly helped cement that ex-hunter as being harmless, at least when it came to Jesse and their relationship.  
Seeing Jack Morrison as something ugly as a rapist was unfathomable to Jesse McCree.

“What ya did… It wasn't unwanted like ya think.” Jesse murmured quietly to Morrison, resting the side of his head against the man’s. “Before ya think of yellin’ or somethin’, just… Let me talk out loud fer a bit then ya can have yer piece.” 

Morrison didn't seem to object or anything, just continued to keep his face firmly buried into Jesse’s sweater while Jesse held him close. Jesse took that as a sign that he might as well start talking and hope things play out well enough. He braced himself by taking a deep breath before letting it out along with his anxiety. Morrison deserved to know the truth, even if it doesn't bring him any peace to his current predicament.

“I don't think you’re a monster fer savin’ me like ya think ya are, Mor- Jack.” Jesse corrected himself, hoping that Morrison would understand what he was getting at by calling him by his first name. “Succubi and Incubi aren’t human and-... And I reckon ya tried everything ya could think of and didn't take any enjoyment in doing what you did to keep me breathing. I know sayin’ ‘thank you’ ain’t what ya wanna hear. It probably would make ya vomit or somethin’ so, I’ll spare ya the conflicting morality issue altogether by not sayin’ it. I just want ya t’know… T’know that I’m grateful that we both survived, that I’m holdin’ ya, and not rushin’ t’say goodbye to ya anytime soon. Yeah, I fucked up and disregarded your wishes, an’ neither of us is better off than the other in the regrets department, but, I’m so happy yer alive, Jack. I’m so goddamn happy.”  
Jesse choked as he buried his own face into Jack's shoulder, the waterworks starting up once again, his hands throbbing painfully as he gripped Jack’s sweater on his back. “I love you so damn much. Don't you ever tell me to fuck yer soul out of yer body in a literal sense again, ya hear me?!” He sobbed uncontrollably, putting everything out there for Jack to kick into the fire, like his cigar and the tree branch from before.

Jack continued to cry and tremble with him. Two individuals who wronged the other but both wanted forgiveness even if they probably couldn't forgive themselves for trying to save the other’s life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the reviews encouraging me to update, guys! Hopefully, I haven't scared too many of you away with this chapter and the heavy conversation between the boys, but, it was one that has to be addressed.
> 
> please leave a review if you do like this fic though. It's kind of hard to gauge if people like the story or not with just hits and kudos...


	4. Moving Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys talk about plans.

Jesse sniffled and rubbed his swollen eyes against his sleeve as he sat at the small dinner table. He helped Jack carry the table and chairs out of the study where he stored them earlier to clean the kitchen floor. Jack then was busied himself cutting a cooked beef roast on the oven, laying the delicious smelling slices out onto each of their plates as a pot on one of the burners continued to bubble in the background. Jesse had an idea of what the extra item Jack was cooking in the pot but didn't want to assume anything nor even ask since he felt like an emotional wreck.

He literally told Jack that he loved him not even ten minutes ago and the ex-hunter had been quiet ever since they came back inside for a large lunch. 

The incubus’ stomach was growling like mad, his energy positively sapped from expending all of his reserves last night to keep Jack alive, and not eating anything since he woke up this morning. Hell, he could probably eat the entire beef roast by himself and STILL be hungry since human food wasn’t exactly good at boosting his energy level, but at least it would satisfy his stomach for a while. The other unpleasant reality was that Jesse was going to need to recharge the incubus way within a few days and probably seek out a few partners as to not kill any of them.

Jesse was pulled out of his depressing thoughts as a plate with four huge slices of roast beef were placed down in front of him. His eyes widened and his mouth started salivating as he watched the steam drift upwards from the beef and the bowl of gravy Jack set down in the middle of the table. Jack then went to the counter and pulled out a raw egg from the container he had sitting out, confirming that he was, indeed, making hard boiled eggs in the pot. Jesse was touched by the little gesture as Jack turned to him and gently tossed him the egg, catching it without much trouble before giving Jack a warm, appreciative smile.

“Roast beef and two kinds of eggs, huh?” The incubus grinned. “Yer spoilin’ me.”

The corner of Jack’s lips seemed to lift at that, the ex-hunter bringing his own plate over along with a small bowl of steaming hot, hard boiled eggs. He set the bowl down between them before taking a seat at the table directly across from Jesse, scooting in his chair right after. 

Jesse took that as a good reaction as he cracked the egg Jack tossed to him against the edge of the table then pulled both halves apart to drop the egg and yolk directly over his slices of roast beef. Jack withheld his usual remarks of disgust on the tradition of Jesse ‘ruining’ his prepared meals with raw eggs, and instead reached across to pull the hot bowl of homemade gravy over to his side of the table, picking up the ladle to carefully drizzle the gloriously salty brown sauce over the slices of meat.

Realizing that they had no drinks out, Jesse pushed his chair out and got up, walking right over to the cabinet to grab two wooden pints, and casually closing the door with his elbow. Setting them down on the counter, Jesse stepped over to the cooling unit and pulled it open, leaning over to see what goods Jack had inside. His eyes widened at the large ice shard rotating slowly in the back of the unit, anchored in place by a helix at the top and bottom of the shelves. He let out an impressed whistle at the rather unique take on helix hexes being utilized in such a unique way without bulky technomancy to anchor it.

“Shit, you patch this thing together yerself?” Jesse drawled incredulously as he leaned out of the cooling unit.

Jack hummed idly at that as he proceeded to cut his food with his fork and knife. “Didn’t have much to lose if the experiment went wrong.” He remarked casually, bringing up the first forkful of beef roast to his lips before taking a bit.

Jesse frowned at that implication and went back to grab the large pitcher of fresh water before closing the door. Any interest he had in Jack’s accomplishment sullied by that disregarding statement for his own safety and life. He set the pitcher in the middle of the table before going back to get the cups, setting Jack’s down in front of his plate before giving him a disapproving scowl when the ex-hunter went to reach for it.

“No more o’ that ever again.”

Jack narrowed his eyes back at McCree in challenge; that old stubbornness rearing its head again. “I’m not in the mode for an argument, McCree. Sit down and let’s just eat lunch.” He declared with an air of finality in it, Jesse’s own bullheadedness put aside for once as he agreed he wasn’t in much shape for a fight even just with words.

He begrudgingly released the cup and went around the tablet with his own before sitting back down. Reaching into the bowl of hard boiled eggs, Jesse pulled out two of them and set them on the edge of his plate to cool a bit more, taking the gravy bowl Jack passed over to him with a quiet ‘thanks’. After using the ladle to coat the meat and egg yolk in a thin layer of gravy, he picked up his fork and knife to start cutting up the beef roast. If there was one thing that would be a shame, it would be letting the meal get cold and having to eat the egg yolk on top of that. Shit was only good to him when the stuff underneath was fresh and hot.

Bringing the slice of yolky, gravy goodness to his mouth, Jesse hummed happily as he bit into the succulent meat. The texture of the beef being as good as the right amount of moisture balanced into it with the add-ons just enriching the flavor without overwhelming it with saltiness of the gravy or the wetness of the egg yolk. It was one of Jack Morrison’s finer dishes that Jesse intentionally loved to fuck around with just to ruffle the handsome, old man’s feathers.

“Mmm.” Jesse hummed in approval after swallowing down the satisfying morsal. “Just as good as I remember it.” He complimented, looking up to see Jack pouring some water into his cup and setting the glass pitcher back down in the middle of the table. Was that a bit of a flush on his pale cheeks or was Jesse just imagining things?

Following Jack’s lead, Jesse poured himself a cup before taking a long, satisfying sip of the cool water; It certainly helped with the dry mouth he woke up with.

“I’m not giving you another egg to continue bastardizing my hard work.” Jack grumbled before taking another bite of his meal, making Jesse snort out in amusement when he brought his cup back up for another drink.

Setting his cup down, Jesse went back to cutting the roast that was covered by the egg yolk, wanting to eat it as quickly as possible but without seeming like he was a mannerless thug. Sure, sometimes establishments deserve Jesse’s worst manners for the slop they sell but this was Jack he’s talkin’ about. Jesse might be a bit cheeky with the ex-hunter but he ultimately wanted to be a good, well-behaved guest when he pulls out the good food for the table.

“I promise I won’t, Morrison.” Jesse drawled as he switched out his cup for another forkful of eggy meat.

They both are in amiable silence, content looks on the other’s face when the other pushed a serving bowl across for the other to partake. Jesse felt the warmth of home flowing through him; Just him, Morrison, and the old house filled with fond memories.

That feel was quickly washed away when Jack’s usual frown returned to his lips.

“Where are you planning on going?” He asked, his underlying meaning laced between the words so heavily that it was hard for Jesse to miss it.

Jesse felt his own mood sour as he set down his fork and knife. His plate completely cleaned off. There was no way Jack didn't intend on bringing up the hard topic the moment after Jesse had finished his meal. 

“Gonna head out once my clothes are dried. Might head two towns over for a few days then come back.” Jesse replied, knowing better than to lie to his new master.

Jack set down his own utensils on the edge of his plate, only one slice of roast beast left along with two hard boiled eggs. “Alright.”

Jesse quirked a brow at how… calm that reaction was. “‘Alright’...?”

“Like I said, I’m fine with us going along with that plan.” Jack replied, picking up one of the hard-boiled eggs to start peeling off the shell.

Jesse pursed his lips firmly at that, the internal bindings of his pact to Jack repressing a bit of the shock and anger he felt at Jack not letting him go at it alone. Although Jack might be his master, Jack’s reluctance to accept the role when the contract was binded made the spell Jesse was under much more lenient compared to what the incubus assumed it should have felt like. Maybe anything short of a flatout order would allow him as much freedom as before? Better test it now than later.

Calmly taking a breath, Jesse looked at back at Jack. “I don't think it’s a good idea, Morrison.”

Jack didn't look up as he brought the soft egg to his lips and took a bite, chewing for a little while before swallowing. “I said that you weren't allowed to leave my side until we fix my issue, McCree.” He replied respectfully, actually wanting to have a conversation about this for once rather than fall back into their usual shouting match?

Jesse frowned but was willing to play ball with Jack in this new, unfamiliar territory. “Alright, I understand that much, and you’re entitled to do so, but, there’s the fact that ya look like an undead that has me uncomfortable.” He explained as he casually gestured a hand towards Jack, making the former hunter pause after he swallowed down the rest of his egg.

Jack’s brows furrowed together in frustration at that as Jesse could tell he was running all sorts of scenarios in his head. Jesse knew deep down that the hunter was a genius when it came to getting any job he took done, if only assumed through the few stories Jack told him of his harder hunts. He would probably figure out a logical loophole he could somehow exploit to keep watch over Jesse.

The thought that Jack might want to make sure he’s safe made Jesse’s heart race as he pursed his lips to not smile at how happy it made him. 

Was this what it was like to have someone watching his back? Such warmth and security he felt deep inside of him at having that kind of admission from the handsome hunter…

“Face tattoos.”

Jesse blinked in momentary confusion. “Pardon...?”

Jack sat back in his chair as he casually crossed his arms over his chest. “If I paint temporary tattoos on my skin, I can make myself look-”

“Like a necromancer who had a spell backfire on them.” Jesse firmly cut in with a wave of his hand for added emphasis. “Adding marks will just make ya stick out more, Jack. Consider the idea rejected.”

Jack scowled at the disapproval but didn't argue as he brought his curled up fist to his lips in thought, moving on to the next idea. “Maybe wear a cloak with long sleeve and gloves for my hands?” He asked as he looked up at Jesse.

Jesse frowned. “Could add a scarf too to cover up the lower half of yer face, it is cold enough.” He contributed, leaning back in his own chair as he rest his hands over his full belly. “You being seen doing normal stuff like shoppin’ during the day time should help when night time comes. I probably could pick an older tavern with shit lighting t’help in that regard too.” 

Now Jack was frowning. “Seedier places mean more tolerance for drunks. Drunks itching for a fight.” He spelled out with a concerned look on his face.

Jesse sighed and rolled his eyes. “That’s quite the assumption yer making, Jack. Y’ever stay at anything other than guildhalls yer whole life? That or y’read too many raunchy books.”

He huffed in annoyance as he sat up in his seat and rest his forearm on the table. “You think I was always able to stay in the best guildhalls in the country? You have to have membership to that specific hall or pay out the ass for a room that wasn't a literal closet with a moldy sheet on the floor, Jesse. If you don't think I didn't sleep in questionable establishments in the worst parts of town when I was starting out then you really don't get the life hunters live.” 

Jesse bristled at the condescending tone Jack used, not liking that he couldn't take a little joke. He had snuck many peeks at the novels the old man occupied himself with and they were seriously as raunchy as he stated. Jack just didn't want to admit he found trashy smut fun to read.

“At least y’almost always had options.” Jesse bitterly remarked as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Can’t ever say that sleepin’ out in the wilderness with hunters on my heels has ever been preferable.”

Jack frowned at that, having the decency to look a bit guilty. He then fell silent for a short while, finishing up his breakfast. Jesse just waited for him to gather his thoughts and think of an actionable plan for their problem instead of staying pissed at Jack for his insensitive remark. Picking up his pitcher, he took a slow drink from it as he thought about how weird it was going to be after a decade of Jack keeping his nose out of Jesse’s business.

Was he going to insist on them coming back to the house after Jesse got his fill?

Sure, he was the one who brought up the idea of coming home right after but what then? Jesse hadn’t thought ahead when he suggested that and now he was just realizing the consequences of getting locked into that… His insides churned at the idea of being a burden but knew that to suggest that they part ways afterwards would be impossible.

For one, his heart ached at the idea of being seperated from Jack…

“We’ll go with that plan.” Jack spoke up, Jesse lifting his head to look at him. “What do you need me to do other than be visible during the day and occupy the bar you pick at night?”

Jesse blinked at that, unsure of what Jack was getting at by asking him for more suggestions. Jack always seemed like some kind of tactical genius based on the exploits he heard of him when he was an active hunter so it didn’t seem like he would need to ask…

“Jesse.”

“Huh?”

Jack seemed visibly curious as he watched Jesse, making the incubus’ heart race at the attention. It was so strange to be this anxious at having Jack’s undivided attention. To have him asking for his opinion when he never really needed to before made him very excited. He swallowed down his joy hard as to not seem like he was overly enjoying the attention. Freaking out Jack would backfire hard if he was not careful.

“What are your ideas?” Jack repeated patiently before pausing for a moment. “Better question: ‘How will I know you are okay without asking?’” He asked carefully, looking at Jesse like he would know what to do in this kind of situation. “Is there… some kind of hand signal or something that won’t completely blow your cover?”

Jesse’s eyes widened in surprise at how considerate he was being with his questions. The lack of invasiveness into Jesse’s strategy seemed to show how much Jack trusted him to get the job done but also open up the floor to discussion on how the ex-hunter could personally assure his safety. It didn’t feel like he was going to micromanage or babysit him through the whole thing based on Jack’s tone. Jesse felt himself relax into his seat at the reassurance that he wouldn’t be coddled before nodding his head in acknowledgement.

“Yeah, I can think of a few non-verbal ways we can communicate.” Jesse grinned, leaning forward to place his forearms on the table. “I got a bandana I can wear that we’ll use as the base then possibly the back of my shirt if you’re in a booth behind me at the bar.” He explained before sliding his chair back and getting up. “Be right back.” Jesse spoke, pushing in his chair and turning to head into the living room to get to his travel pack. He paused in his step as he hear the clinging of silverware on ceramic plates and turned to see Jack gathering up their plates at the table. “What are you doin’?” Jesse asked incredulously.

“Cleaning up.” Jack stated simply, heading to the sink and carefully setting down the dishes into the soapy water.

Jesse pursed his lips in annoyance at that. “Ya cooked, I reckon I should do my part an’ clean.” He remarked bitterly, turning back towards the living room to head over to his travel pack propped up against the wall.

The sound of dishes sloshing mutely around in the sink was the only answer Jesse was given. If he had hackles, Jesse was sure they would be raised at how annoyed he was at Jack’s disregard, especially since Jesse’s own clothing was washed and hanging on the clothesline as well. 

Grabbing the red bandana from his bag, Jesse stomped back over to the kitchen and tossed the cloth far from the splash zone on the counter as he forcefully elbowed his way to get to the sink. Jack met his elbow with his own as both stubborn men tried to force the other away. Jack’s teeth bare in a snarl as he put more of his weight into challenging Jesse but the incubus refused to back down.

“Let… me… WASH!” Jesse growled, narrowing his own eyes as his skin festered red under duress.

“Sit down, Jesse -! Your hands are -! Why are you fucking fighting with me over dishes?!” Jack spat out, reminding the bullheaded incubus about the wrapped up burns on his hands.

Jesse was slow to back down but eventually gritted his teeth in humiliation as he backed off. He felt so useless when he was used to helping old man Morrison to earn his right to the couch until he needed to hit the road once more. It hurt pretty badly to be ignored especially with all the heavy lifting Morrison did to clean the house AND wash Jesse’s clothing without even asking him! Jesse was so used to being barked at to move ‘this’ and ‘help me lift that’ that he found himself MISSING doing chores.

But Jack didn’t know that, did he?

Hell, did Jesse ever really know a fully independent Jack Morrison? Wait -. No.

Of course Jack was independant, especially when Jesse wasn’t around. There was no one else to help him with chores; no family, friends, or even members from the guild. 

A thin layer of dirt was always present on the highest shelves or under the couch when Jesse was asked to ‘carry his weight in rent’. Jack Morrison had to put up with things being below his standard the older he grew.

Putting up with the helplessness he likely felt and using the opportunity when Jesse was present to do what the ex-hunter wished he could do alone…

Jack really doesn’t need him anymore.

He’s just a… a guest…

Temporary…

But, that was always a constant with an incubus’ situation, right…?

So, why does it hurt so much now?

A dish towel landed on the counter next to Jesse and the incubus slowly glanced over at the slightly-stained cloth for a long moment. He didn’t really get pulled out of his depressing thoughts until a dripping wet plate was held out to him by a pale hand. Jesse gazed at the plate before looking up at Jack’s red eyes to see something like sympathy in them.

“Dry and put the dishes away.” Jack spoke calmly, slightly lifting the plate once more for emphasis before watching Jesse take it with a bandaged hand and then reach for the dish towel with his remainder. Jack retracted his hand and submerged it back into the soapy water to scrub another dish as Jesse hand dried the plate. “We’ll bring in the laundry next, assuming it’s dry.” He added as an afterthought.

Jesse nodded his head. He was relieved at Jack giving him something to do rather than making him metaphorically sit on his hands. A small smile lifted the corner of his lips as he and Jack slowly fell into a comfortable rhythm side-by-side; Jack scrubbing then washing off a dish, Jesse taking said-item and drying it off with the towel before putting it away into the proper cabinet. They didn’t talk during the process but it was understandable that both of them need a bit of space. Apparently, not in a physical sense as Jesse felt Jack’s arm and shoulder press up against his, not minding when Jesse intentionally did it in return.

Once all the dishes and pans were cleaned and put away, Jack took the dish rag over to wipe down both the counter and table. Jesse unplugged the sink and allowed it to drain before running the water in the basin to wash it out to save Jack some steps. Once Jack was all done, he washed off the rag before hanging it up on the small, wooden rag rack he had on the counter, and turned to look at Jesse. “Not bad.” He offered, Jesse brightening at the ‘job well done’ Jack gave him before the ex-hunter glanced down at Jesse’s hands. The bandages were slightly beaten and wet but not in bad shape at all as he looked at them from front and back. “It’s probably time to reapply the burn cream anyways.” Jack spoke before turning away and heading to the living room to likely get the first-aid kit off the coffee table.

Jesse casually shrugged his shoulders at that with a lopsided smile. “Ain’t gonna fight y’on that one.”

Jack let out a playful huff at that as he picked up the medkit and headed back over with knowing smirk. “Says the guy that always goes out of his way looking for one.”

Jesse rolled his eyes with a mischievous smile before pulling out a chair at the table to take a seat, watching Jack as he set down the medkit, and brought his own chair around to set down in front of Jesse. “Not all the time.” He grinned, holding his hands up to allow Jack to do his work without fuss on his end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's okay to be excited about a fic but please understand that I write at my own pace and I don't always have the inspiration to work on particular fics (I flip flop a lot). I rather take longer to get you guys chapters I liked writing during my inspiration bursts rather than stick to a schedule and only give you guys maybe 4 pages max for each fic that I force myself to put out. Also, don't leave reviews on my other fics asking for updates on unrelated fics. Please be courteous to me as a writer doing this for free and for fun!
> 
> Now that's out of the way, please leave a review if you are enjoyed the chapter!


	5. About Consent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse and Jack dig out the ex-hunters old stuff.
> 
> They talk details about consent.

Preparing to leave home with Morrison wasn't that much of a time consumer as Jesse originally thought it would be as he helped dig around to locate the rejuvenated, ex-hunter’s old travel goods in the house. Even more intriguing was digging through the two unused, upstairs rooms, that Jesse never bothered venturing into in the past, to find them. Apparently, the old asshole DID have a guest room, albeit one stuffed from floor to ceiling with crates and all sorts of junk. Jesse shot Jack a look after the ex-hunter finished pulling open the door.

Jack looked back at Jesse with a quirked brow as he tucked the master key into his pocket. “What?”

Jesse rolled his eyes before taking a step into the dusty room. “You make everyone else sleep on the couch too?” He sarcastically remarked as he walked two steps forward into the room and eyed the numerous heavy-looking crates literally flattening the mattress before considering taking it back just as quickly. There was no way even a healthy, sixty year old Jack Morrison would be able to move this shit alone much less an eighty year old one! “Wait-”

Jack was right next to him and pointing up to the ceiling. “Room’s bad luck.”

Jesse blinked at Jack’s odd answer before craning his head back and felt his eyes widen at the sight: Many questionable, old brown stains lined the edges of newer planks of wood. 

It was clear that something large broke in through the roof or there was enough damage done to that area, in general, that warranted such a noticeable patch job. It could be either considering Jack was an infamous hunter and there would be plenty of folk who would want the bragging rights of taking his head, retired or not. The man was a living legend in Jesse’s eyes, after all.

It sent lit a smolder of anger deep in Jesse’s gut to think some vile piece of shit went after his Jack.

He knew that the incident(s) were taken care of thoroughly enough that no one was stupid enough to try again but the MERE THOUGHT of someone touching even a silver hair on the ex-hunter’s head had Jesse see red. He balled his fists tightly at his sides to try to work off the frustration and anger he had nowhere to direct at; The threats were long gone and buried without Jesse’s knowledge.

Jesse turned on his heel to head out and maybe smoke the rest of his cigar to cool himself before a hand caught his shoulder. He paused in his step and looked over his shoulder to see Jack looking at him with those red eyes of his.

“If it makes you feel any better, the blood was never mine.” He spoke, clarifying the obvious for Jesse before the incubus realized Jack thought he was angry at him getting hurt all those years ago.

Jesse pursed his lips at that and turned fully to face Jack. “Well, yeah. It’s a guest room, right? Makes sense the blood ain’t yours.” He obviously remarked before watching the corner of Jack’s lips lift up in amusement. His frustration was cut in half by just seeing such a pretty sight.

Jack chuckled as he placed his hands on his hips. “Nah.” He casually spoke before glancing over at Jesse with a grin. “Gabe got to them faster than I could since they dropped in on him in two separate occasions when he was staying over.” As if reminiscing on a fond memory, Jack seemed more amused by the minute before letting out a snort of laughter. 

Jesse recalled Jack telling him a few stories involving the ‘mad sorcerer’, Gabriel Reyes, but he never told him the infamous mage actually visited the house before. All the stories were pre-retirement, during Jack’s golden years of hunting.

“Seriously? The Mad Sorcerer actually came by after ya retired?” He asked incredulously.

Jack’s smirk quickly turned to a deadpan expression as he looked back at Jesse. “What? You think we stopped being friends just cause I retired?”

Jesse chuckled nervously at that as he brought a hand up to card through his hair. “I just- It just never seemed like anyone left any trace of visitin’ ya when I came around, is all…” He weakly answered, watching as Jack’s eyes narrowed at him in an almost comedic fashion.

“...You thought I didn’t have any friends.”

Jesse felt like he bit into a lemon as his lips pursed together. “Erm… I reckon I wouldn’t go THAT far…”

Jack heaved out a heavy sigh before rolling his eyes. “Okay. You have a fair point.” The ex-hunter oddly admitted, casually crossing his arms over his chest as he glanced back at the metric ton of shit basically crushing the mattress. “What kind of host makes his guests sleep on the couch anyways…?” Jack bitterly grumbled under his breath before stepping forward to step up onto one of the few open spots on the mattress.

Jesse frowned at Jack’s remark as he followed him over to the side of the bed, ready to take the crates Jack passed down to him from the pile. Clearly someone had helped Jack stack all of this stuff up before so he would likely need help getting it all on the ground again since none of the crates were labeled. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if this took all day to take down and sort through to find what Jack wanted to bring with before they left. 

“Any idea on what we’re gonna be lookin’ for, Jack?” Jesse asked curious as he watched man’s muscles bulge under his blue sweater while lifting off the first crate of the stack with a grunt of exertion. He had to swallow down the impure thoughts he got at the sight and took the heavy crate offered to him before setting it down on the ground. Now was NOT the time to be daydreaming about a hot, silver-haired stud moaning below him while Jesse treated him to a VERY good time.

Jack didn’t seem to notice as he stretched his arm over his chest before repeating the action to loosen his muscles on the other one. “My old duster would be pretty useful.” He remarked before letting his arms drop down to his sides and glanced over at the crate Jesse set on the floor. “Pretty sure I only put in two nails to keep the lids in place. Never knew when I might have needed something back then, was my thought.” 

Jesse nodded his head and pumped his arms back and forth across his chest as he shifted to his incubus form for the very slight endurance boost he got from it. He easily pulled the lid off the crate with a firm tug and set it upside down on the floor before leaning over to see what was inside. There was a plain white cloth was covering the contents for dust protection and was easily removed with a clawed hand to reveal a rather nicely cared for, leather, chest-mounted, bandolier set. Jesse felt like he found some sacred treasure as he happily leaned over and carefully lifted up the hefty chest harness with its many, many utility pouches. 

It made perfect sense that Jack would put the items he would need for a hunt at the top of the crate pile rather than the bottom. He held up the item to show it to Jack, and felt his heart speed up at the rather sweet, nostalgic look the ex-hunter wore as he gazed down at the bandolier. Oh god. This was going to be so worth the hassle of digging through this warehouse to find whatever Jack needed if Jesse would be able to see such breathtaking expressions on Jack’s face.

“Yeah, set that aside.” Jack instructed, snapping Jesse out of his daze. “Anything else in there?”

Jesse tucked the bandolier under one arm before turning around to gently lift the other plain cloth that covered the bottom and pulled out two unmarked black bottles. “Got some bottles here. Probably maintenance polish?” He asked as he held the bottles up between his claws to show Jack.

Jack nodded his head in agreement. “Put those back as you found them. We’ll just stuff everything I want to take with into that crate for now.” He spoke before turning back to the next crate.

Jesse mock saluted Jack with a lopsided grin and placed everything back, like he was instructed, before holding his hands up to receive the next crate. Setting the new one on the floor, Jesse was eager to pry off the next lid and remove the cover cloth to see what else from Jack’s past was contained inside. 

A worn, washed out, dark blue duster laid carefully folded before him as Jesse set the anti-dust cloth aside. Dimmed, gold trim lined the blue-dyed leather beautifully as Jesse leaned down and took extra precautions with his talons to pick up the weighted duster. He didn’t just hold it out for Jack to see. No. Jesse climbed up onto the tiny space where Jack was on the bed and carefully let the duster unfold itself as he held it between his claws.

“Think it will still fit?” Jesse remarked with a toothy-grin as he presented it to the unamused ex-hunter, the guy likely not enjoying how little space there was to maneuver with two humanoids crammed up together.

Jack pulled the duster from Jesse’s claws as he scowled at him. Wordlessly, Jack’s red eyes gazed up and down at the duster, as if it held some mystical weight over him before finally pulling it on, sleeve-by-sleeve.

Jesse playfully whistled at the sight and received an almost playful shove to the chest in return before Jack brushed at the duster with his fingers. The incubus grinned as he watched Jack brush obsessively at every crinkle and fold in the leather, trying to smooth it out like it was his own second skin. It probably wasn’t that far off of a comparison and that made Jesse smile even more so, especially when Jack paused to look at him for a moment.

“Something funny, Jesse?” Jack grumbled, making Jesse realize the man was embarrassed at his preening, and that lifted the corners of Jesse’s lips even higher.

“Nah. Just see somethin’ I like.” Jesse playfully winked before turning and hopping off the bed with a smug grin on his face. “Anyways, next box, Boss?” He drawled as he turned to face Jack, watching as the ex-hunter seemed a bit flushed in the face before quickly scowling and turning to lift the next crate.

\--

After loading the last of the two crates into the back of Jack’s wagon the next day, Jesse went back into the house to grab both of their travel packs as Jack tended to his old horse at the front of the cart. The sun was up on this new and exciting day as Jesse found himself full of energy and vigor, regardless of how sapped he actually was. There was some hay laid out on the left half of the cart for Jesse to unroll his sleeping bag on top of to nap in relative comfort on the way to the town. It was one of Jack’s suggestions since it was only going to be a three hour trip and he wouldn’t need Jesse to share the burden of the driver’s seat with him. 

Jesse wasn’t going to argue with him since he really was going to need all the energy he could to convince some sucker to lay with him tonight. He could probably use his incubus powers to heavily tilt the odds into his favor AND not have to worry as much if he bottomed the whole night, but he was a bit worried about Jack.

Slipping one strap from each pack onto his shoulders, Jesse headed back out the front door and over to the simple, uncovered wagon to set them both onto the side where the crates were. Jack had plans to get rid of some of the more valuable trinkets they found in the storage room to help pay for the trip and get some extra pocket money. The ex-hunter had been living rather decently off his well cared for garden and an old friend who visited Jack four times a year to trade him live animals for cheap that were easy to feed.

It explained all the meat Jack had in his salt box along with the occasional pig or two chickens he would have to care for when he was visiting the house. Jesse hadn’t considered any of that before and was usually just happy not having to see anything in the animal pen in the back when he dropped by. Less work, and noise to keep him awake when he slept on the couch.

“Think you can handle one last trip, Maury?”

Jesse stepped down from the side of the cart and turned to see Jack affectionately talking to the old mare he had rigged up to the front. It made Jesse smile to see Jack running his hand down the horse’s nose, the old man clearly fond of the animal as he softly smiled at her. It squeezed Jesse’s heart in a wonderful way to see him murmuring to the old beast of burden, continuing to stroke and encourage her since it was likely that Jack would trade both her and the wagon when they got to town. She was too old to make the trip back but that didn’t mean Jack didn’t want to show his appreciation to her while they still had time. Her age was partially the reason the one hour trip was lengthened to a steady three to make sure her last haul wasn’t a rush job.

Maury was very lucky to have Jack as an owner.

“What are you looking at?” 

A grumpy voice snapped Jesse out of his daze and made him flush up in embarrassment for getting caught staring.

Jesse sheepishly removed his hat and carded a hand through his hair before looking back at Jack. “Erm… Sorry…” He mumbled, mentally kicking himself for passing up the opportunity to hit on Jack and blaming it on his lightheadedness instead as he plopped his hat back on his head.

Jack sighed after a beat and gave Maury one last pat on the neck before walking over to Jesse. The incubus couldn't help but notice how much of a total snack the ex-hunter looked like to him as he wore that lovely leather duster combined with the rest of his old hunting ensemble he wore to look like a handsome, chiseled hunter in his prime. Okay. Scratch that, Jack looked like a meal that would feed Jesse for years (or maybe decades, says his aching, longing heart) if he got on his knees and said ‘please’ enough…

Jesse quickly shook the fantasy from his head as he focused on Jack when he came to a halt in front of him. With his hood up and scarf wrapped around his lower face, Jack looked rather warm and comfortable in cute way. Hell, Jack was always cute and handsome to Jesse.

“Anyways,” Jack spoke, getting right down to business as he came to a halt in front of Jesse. “We should probably talk about you, and what I can safely do to give you an energy boost during emergencies.” He calmly remarked as he leaned a shoulder up against the wagon. Apparently, he wasn't anticipating this conversation as being a quick one, so Jesse turned and rest his back against the wagon as well.

“What you mean by ‘emergencies’?” Jesse casually asked, knowing both of them could have a mature conversation about the niche details of succubi/incubi powers. He appreciated Jack going out of his way to personally learn more about Jesse rather than just sticking to human methods when an emergency arises. It meant that he could trust Jack to keep Jesse’s own limits into consideration should anything happen, and it made him all the more happy to be around the ex-hunter.

“Well, what if, by some random chance, I need your assistance in a labor intensive way?” 

Jesse gave Jack the look and crossed his arms over his chest. “Like a fight?”

Jack pursed his lips firmly at that reaction. Jesse hit the mark but it really wasn't hard to figure out. Jack wouldn't need his help until they got to town and a minor assistance, if Jack even bothered to wake him for that, wouldn't require an exorbitant amount of energy like he was implying. Jack knew he wasn't used to his new body enough to be proficient in a fight after decades of retirement but he could have just been honest.

“I rather not see any action out here, Jesse, but… I guess it’s reality.” Jack sighed, seeming more put off by the truth of his statement than Jesse’s reaction. 

At least that much was reassuring. 

Jesse relaxed at that and gave Jack a small, understanding smile. “A quick peck on the lips will give me the equivalent of a short burst of energy for maybe… ten minutes, depending on how well I absorb it.” He explained as he gestured with one hand, bringing his hands up to his lips to part them slightly. “My mouth has to be open a bit for it to work though.” Jesse added before tucking his hand back under his arm.

Jack nodded his head. “Is any kind of kiss fine or does it require genuine feeling behind it?” Smartly digging into the details to leave no doubts.

Oh, the temptation to lie was so appealing right now! But doing right by Jack would be the only way to stay in the man’s good grace. He wanted Jack to trust him on everything when Jesse knew, absolutely for certain, that he was right on any particular subject. So, he shoved those tempting thoughts away and was ready to be the honest incubus he wanted to be for Jack.

“Nah.” He handwaved. “Just imagine yer kissin’ the hottest hunter or somethin’ an’ it’ll work like a charm.” He grinned before his lips curled upwards in mischief. “Plenty of folk think of others when they kiss an incubus, aware or not. I'm just a warm hole to fuck, unless I’m toppin’.” Jesse added with a wink, pleased when Jack rolled his eyes at that.

It was definitely not a rejection and that’s what helped keep Jesse content. The fact that Jack wasn't completely disgusted meant that he possibly had a chance of courting the ex-hunter, right? The pleasant warmth in his chest certainly encouraged him when Jack cleared his throat to predictably steer the conversation back on course.

“Right. So, in emergency situations, is it alright if I kiss you?” Jack asked in an almost sheepish manner as he brought a hand up to card through his hair. Jesse had to resist the urge to gleefully smile at how hoppin’ happy he felt inside.

“Darlin’,” Jesse started, grin wide and sincere. “Y’can kiss me till the cows come home. I don't think I would ever not want a chance t’kiss a guy as handsome as y’are.”

Jack’s awkward smile wasn’t one that had Jesse worried as the ex-hunter before he cleared his throat. He seemed to be doing that a bit today, and Jesse couldn't help but still find it endearing. “Right, well. It’s nice to know you have no issues with the arrangement. I just don't want to…” Jack paused for a moment and Jesse knew exactly what he was getting at, much to Jack’s visible relief as the incubus silently nodded his head in agreement. “Yeah. Well… Anyways, good talk. Let’s get on the road so you can get some shut eye before we get there.” Jack clapped his hands together and turned as he headed to the driver’s seat.

Jesse knew he was uncomfortable with what happened, regardless of Jesse’s post-event consent. Trauma was something personally to everyone and he couldn't expect Jack to get over it in one night. Jesse watched the ex-hunter pull himself up with ease into the driver’s seat before climbing up and into the wagon himself, not wanting Jack to catch him staring. 

He maneuvered around the stack of crates covered with a tarp and went over to the thin pile of hay where his bed roll was laid out. Jesse removed his boots and slipped into the sack, resting his hat on top of his boots before laying his head back against his flat travel pillow. With the hay under his sack it would be a bit warmer and more comfortable with the insulation instead of sleeping on the hard floor. Probably would cushion any bumps along the road too, he thought as Jack clicked his tongue and the wagon got under way. Jesse soon slipped off to sleep once he was comfortable, a bit embarrassing to admit how tired he was after everything that happened. Hopefully, he’ll have enough energy then when they get into town to not seem too under the weather to any prospective partner…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per usual, Please leave a review! I know you guys have been dying for the next chapter and here you are!
> 
> Remember that reviews are what powers my ability to keep chugging along! Encouragement/feedback is great fuel for that!


	6. A Wagon Ride

“You with me, Jess?” 

Jesse grumbled reflexively at the hand shaking his shoulder. His cot nice and warm as he was enjoying his nap; dreaming of a certain grouchy senior citizen and watching his wrinkled brow add more lines as he glared at Jesse cracking more raw eggs over his meal. Jesse was happily grinning at his elderly crush across the table, wanting to further egg (heh) on the old man until the discomforting grip on his shoulder returned, making the image of Morrison and the kitchen blurrier.

“Jesse.” The rougher, masculine voice spouted in increasingly more irritated by the moment. “Jesse! Would you wake up?”

Jesse begrudgingly opened his eyes slowly at that, immediately raising his hand to block the sunlight trying to eat his eyeballs wholesale with its stinging light. There was hardly a cloud in the sky to block out the sun as Jesse rolled over onto his side in his sleep sack, a sudden bump under jostling him on the thin hay pile he slept on. The creaking of wood and the clopping of hooves on gravel reminded the incubus that he was on the road and not in the warm security of Jack Morrison’s house.

For one, the air temperature dropped to the point where Jesse noticed his breath hanging in the air, and he found it so baffling that he found himself sitting up with his sleeping sack clung tightly around him. Even though it was winter, the temperature never dropped to the point where Jesse found his face rather numb as he tucked he plunged half of his face into the warmth of the sack. Sitting back against the edge of the wagon, Jesse curiously glanced out at the surrounding area from the warm safety of his sleeping bag. The grass was still peppered with the usual patches of brown intermixed with green but with a glistening layer of frost reflecting the sun overhead. Any non-pine tree was well stripped of its leaves at this point but held similar amount of frost layered over.

“...The hell’s going on?” Jesse asked, his voice muffled from both general exhaustion and the cloth he was hiding the bottom half of his face under.

“Not too sure.” Jack quietly replied to Jesse from the driver’s seat. The wagon was still going at a decent pace, meaning that either the ex-hunter didn't think this was the work of a malicious supernatural entity or a cold front coming through the area north of his home, Jesse reasoned. Or maybe it was the opposite and Jack wanted the entity to think it would have the advantage of surprise…

But, then, what entity, if any, would set up shop in a relatively abandoned neck of the woods hours out from the nearest town? 

Jesse scratched at his beard under the warmth of his blanket as he pondered the various ice-based beings that he knew of. He certainly wasn't a hunter who would go after pest monster or an alchemist that would seek to capture elementals but Jesse WAS an incubus that spent a lot of time on the run and hiding in questionably safe locations to dissuade hunters from pursuit. Dumb, yes, but he managed to stay alive until this point by taking risks even with his comparably weak form like humans themselves.

Also, he wasn't about to let anything get the jump on Jack if he felt uneasy enough to rouse him from crucial sleep in his exhausted state. Not that he would be really any help in a coordinated fight since only Jack was a trained professional. It really annoyed him how useless he was considering that Jack wasn't out of practice and still adjusting to a more youthful body. 

Gritting his teeth, Jesse turned to face the back of Jack’s hooded head. “If anything shows up, you make your horse gun it! Got it?” He hisses quietly to Jack as he bounced in his seat from another bump in the road.

“As if I can go toe-to-toe with anything and not get myself hurt…!” Jack hissed back, unintentionally reassuring Jesse that he wouldn't do anything stupid, like trying to fight.

Jesse gritted his teeth as he turned around to watch the back of the cart for enemies lurking in the icy brush along the road while Jack watched the front. He was still exhausted, even with adrenaline pumping, and the short nap he took. The incubus wasn't going to complain since he was grateful that Jack woke him up when he got nervous rather than try to handle things by himself, like he used. It really helped encourage Jesse to look alive as he scanned trees and brush, wanting to prove, that even at his weakest, he could be of use to the ex-hunter.

Jesse's skin grew hotter as he shifted forms; The need to protect his precious ex-hunter drove him to assume a form that was more intimidating than his human guise. 

Sure, no monster worth its salt would find an incubus, much less a weakened one, to be more intimidating than a human. His strength and endurance was only a tick better than your average human farmer but it was more for escaping a bad situation than an offensive advantage. Jesse’s healed, clawed hands clenched tightly into fists as he did what weak humans and humanoids do; Stay calm and plan for everything.

At least, he would have if the lining of frost along the trees didn't suddenly drop off. Jesse found himself blinking as he squinted to reaffirm what he WAS seeing and that it wasn't the light-headedness talking. Brown bark, crisp green pine needles and cones lining the trees built for winter while the rest had maybe a few brown leaves still stubbornly clinging to their branches: No frost in sight.

Did they past the immediate danger zone?

The cart bumped and rocked from side to side on the usual uneven road as Jesse kept his eyes peeled for trouble, a hand raised to shield his eyes from the sun as he scanned the road back and forth. His vision was fuzzy on the edges at times but a few good blinks cleared it up along with a firm shake of his head when his head sank downwards in fatigue. Jesse brought his hands up to smack his cold cheeks as he fought to stay awake when the appeal of sleep became too much to shake off. He had to protect Jack!

The next few minutes Jesse continued to fight with the need to lay down and sleep as the wagon gradually slowed. Jack apparently not feeling on the edge anymore as nothing jumped out at them from the forest, especially with the odd frost a good distance behind them. 

Jesse scowled at that, not feeling as at ease when they were so exposed.

Why didn't Jack have more to protect him than just a half-dead incubus and an old crossbow?

Hell, when was the last time Jack even took the damn thing out much less did maintenance on it? The ex-hunter didn't seem too keen to do the necessary maintenance after they pulled the hefty thing out of its crate.

Jesse felt his stomach sink in realization that Jack might not remember how to do such a thing after decades of not needing it. It made the incubus’ eyes widen in shock as he realized he just assumed that it was only the new body that Jack would have to get used to and not the fact that he might need more skilled professionals helping him with relearning essential skills for modern day life. A cold chill took hold of Jesse’s stomach as he brought his hands up to grip his hair in a panic.

Shit!

What was Jesse going to do?! 

He was a well-traveled incubus but like hell he had any connections to help get Jack someone to talk to! Was that why Jack was gonna sell the horse and wagon? Was he planning on staying in town longer than a week or two?!

Jesse was biting on his nails before he knew it as his plans were thrown into chaos. He couldn't stomach the anxiety of staying anywhere but Jack’s house for longer than two weeks! Incubus have to always be on the move! Prolonged stay meant that people would eventually catch on to the pattern of the sudden fatigue of their population if the town wasn't big enough to allow for Jesse to spread out his feedings between many strangers. Jack would get caught up in an investigation by hunters, or worse, the church, and have to abandon his treatment provider!

He would hate Jesse more and more the longer they’re on the run! 

A hand touched his shoulder, practically making Jesse shit himself as he let out a yell, whipping around in a panic to see Jack looking over at him, wide eyed in shock.

“You okay, Jess?” The handsome, red eyed ex-hunter asked, clearly concerned as he glanced at Jesse, seeing if anything was physically wrong with him with the way they scanned him.

Jesse felt his face flush up more than it usually was in his incubus form. Realizing he had shifted, Jesse calmed himself by slowly breathing in and out, a clawed hand on his chest to try to steady himself. His color faded back to human-passing, as his claws and fangs retracted.

“Kinda sorta scared the ever livin’ daylights outta me.” Jesse nervously chuckled, internally kicking himself for looking like a fool in front of his crush. More than that, he was caught daydreaming when he was suppose to be watching Jack’s back! How can the ex-hunter ever see Jesse as dependable if he’s slacking off in turbulent times? He certainly wouldn't trust himself. Being an incubus naturally meant you were the most selfish being in town…

“... I didn't mean to scare you.” Jack spoke with a rather sincere tone in his voice that made Jesse feel just a little bit better.

“It’s fine…” Jesse muttered in embarrassment as he looked off to the side at the passing brush instead of Jack. 

A moment of silence passed before Jack spoke again. “You can lay back down. Got about another hour before we hit the town gates.” His voice empathetic to Jesse’s condition but otherwise unaware of the conflict in the incubus’ heart.

Jesse worried on his lower lip as he hesitated to speak in earnest to Jack. “You… Are you sure?” He hesitantly asked, looking back at Jack with worry.

Jack nodded his head before turning forward in his seat, flexing his fingers as he adjusted his grip on the reins. “I’ll holler if I need you, Jess. Get some shut eye. You really need it.”

It was a bit humiliating to be told to what to do but Jesse’s own body agreed with Jack as his eyes grew even heavier at his encouragement. He would be a useless meat shield dragging the ex-hunter down if they got into town and he was too exhausted to lift a finger. The veil of sleep weighing down harder as he gave in and slipped back into his sleep bag, the hay shifting under him while he got settled on top of it. Laying his head down on his flat travel pillow was all it took to completely surrender to the darkness as he closed his eyes.

Part of him still worried about Jack as his mind slowly released its resistance to slip away into the calm and quiet. Scenarios drifting idly past him as his head played the worst-case scenarios to fill him with lingering guilt; Jack silenced by an arrow, a bandit overpowering Jack and slicing his throat - all sorts of unpleasant situations, and none where he doesn't follow Jack soon after his demise. 

All because he went to sleep…

Thankfully, his dreams took over and allowed him relief from his burden. A sweet dream of him and Jack a few years back. A dream where Jesse was not an incubus and allowed to stay with Jack. One where Jack did not need to pee in a bucket or sleep on an comparably uncomfortable couch. In fact, they slept in the same bed, holding each other for warmth on the coldest winter nights with equally warm smiles of contentment on their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter but I'm gonna make it up with the next one!
> 
> Just a little world-builder chapter that explains that not everything is out to jump hunters in this world but it always has to be a thing in the forefront of everyone's minds.
> 
> Please leave a review to power me on to the next chapter! Let me know about the things you like about the story so far (or this chapter itself!)

**Author's Note:**

> I cried my eyes out writing this fic and I hope you guys will like it enough to leave me a review on what you did like. There needs to be more fluffy incubus stories.


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